


The Dreaded Phone Call

by HiddenSt0rms



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fever, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Hurt/Comfort, Michelle Jones Is a Good Bro, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Romantic Fluff, Sick Peter Parker, Sickfic, Whump, but it doesn't actually happen, no seriously there's no real plot, slight emeto warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:07:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23424469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HiddenSt0rms/pseuds/HiddenSt0rms
Summary: There's just no way Peter is running a fever on MJ's birthday. No way.
Relationships: Michelle Jones/Peter Parker
Comments: 4
Kudos: 74





	The Dreaded Phone Call

**Author's Note:**

> Based on my own Tumblr prompt:
> 
> That moment when a character finally swallows their pride and admits to being sick because they weren’t feeling better like they thought they would and now officially have to cancel their plans
> 
> Bonus: then the other person is like “This is very last minute, did it really come on that suddenly?” and the sickie has to further admit that they’d been feeling bad for a while

Peter didn't feel like himself.

It started last night when he’d started feeling achy and sore during patrol. He figured he must’ve just been pushing himself too hard, but that theory was proved wrong when the chills hit later. Despite wearing thick sweatpants and a hoodie when it was 80 degrees outside, Peter just couldn’t get warm. Peter hoped a good night’s rest would make it go away, only to wake up with a headache in addition to the miserable feverish feeling. 

But there was no way he was getting sick, not today. Not on MJ’s birthday. They had dinner plans and he had a gift already wrapped for her and everything. There was no way he was feeling so crappy because he was getting sick. It had to be something else. He’d be fine by evening, no doubt about it. One more afternoon nap and he’d wake up feeling good as new.

Or maybe not. Peter sluggishly turned off his alarm and sighed when his body made itself known. He knew he needed to start getting ready if he wanted to be on time. He knew he was supposed to pick her up, but…

Instinct told him he needed to check his temperature, something he’d been actively avoiding. And if Peter didn’t like the number, he knew what he needed to.

Peter stumbled to the bathroom and rummaged through the drawers for a cheap digital thermometer. Sighing, he reluctantly stuck the bulb under his tongue, taking a seat on the toilet seat and resting his aching head on his hand. He’d nearly fallen back asleep until it beeped, and he looked down to analyze the result.

101.9.

Peter blinked, not quite expecting it to be that high. He’d expected 100 at most, but almost 102 meant he needed to stay home. There was no denying it anymore. Peter went back to his room and grabbed his phone, sucking in a shaky breath. As much as he hated to cancel, doing so last-minute was even worse. He regretted not letting MJ know what was going on sooner. 

Soon MJ’s voice was in Peter’s ear. “Hey Pete, what’s up?”

“Happy birthday, MJ.” Peter said. He hoped he sounded enthusiastic, but man, he really sounded tired and weak. MJ immediately picked up on this.

“Thanks, but are you okay?”

“Well, I, um,” Peter rubbed his head. This would be harder than he thought. “I’m really, really sorry...but I don’t think I’m gonna be able to come tonight. I have a fever. I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, you don’t have to apologize. We can always go out another night. I’ll be the same age, will I not?” 

Her genuine relaxed tone put Peter at ease, but then she followed up with something else.

“This is pretty last minute, did it come on that quick? Is it because of your spider metabolism?”

“I - no. Last night honestly.” Peter admitted quietly.

“Why’d you wait so long to tell me?” MJ asked, not accusing but genuinely curious.

“I was hoping I’d be feeling better in time. Guess I was wrong.” 

“Yeah, fevers tend to not make people feel better.”

When Peter was silent on the other end and didn’t react to her sarcasm, MJ knew that there was something else going on. “You don’t need the hospital, do you?” She asked, tone more serious.

“No, no, nothing like that.” Peter paused. “I just feel bad, that’s all. Not physically I mean, mentally. I feel bad for cancelling. Not to say I don’t feel bad physically, ‘cause I do, not that I’m faking, I’m not - now I sound suspicious - “

“Woah Peter, calm down. I don’t think you’re faking, honest.” MJ said genuinely. “You want me to come over? Would that help at all?”

“No!” Peter said, probably a bit too quickly. “Wait, not that I don’t want you to come, because I don’t. Wait, I mean, it’s not that I don’t want to see you - “ Peter winced and massaged his head, collecting his thoughts. “I just don’t wanna get you sick on your birthday. I’m sorry, I can’t think straight. My head is killing me so bad.”

But there was thankfully some laughter on the other end. MJ would never say it out loud, but she found Peter’s ramblings endearing and adorable. “I get it and I appreciate it. That won’t stop me from checking up on you, or maybe it will.”

“Well, which is it?”

“You’ll have to see.” MJ teased.

“Aw come on, just tell me what you’re planning.”

“I never said I was planning anything...or maybe I did.” MJ smiled. “Feel better, Peter. Get some rest.”

And the call ended. Peter usually would’ve found that unpredictable side of MJ intriguing but it instead filled him with anxiety. The thought of his girlfriend barging in at any moment with his hair a mess, face drained of color, and wearing faded spider pajama pants and an old Midtown hoodie was enough to send him running to the toilet.

Or maybe it wasn’t just the thought and he was actually queasy. Peter tossed his phone on the bed and threw himself down the hall and in front of the toilet. He stared at the water and sucked in shaky breaths. Peter coughed a few times, but didn’t actually throw up. He guessed it was just because he was so dizzy and feverish. But it made him glad he called MJ; at least he was doing this in the comfort of his own home and not at a fancy restaurant.

Peter waited a few more minutes to confirm he wasn’t actually going to throw up, then made his way back to the lower bunk (sleeping high off the ground is fun, but it wasn’t worth the ladder climb with how bad he felt). He shivered under the mountain of blankets curled in on himself. If he could have anything in the universe at that moment, it would be to just feel warm. 

And through it all, hot tears rolled down his cheek.

He was quite possibly the worst boyfriend in the entire world, dramatics be damned. It was MJ’s birthday and while she didn’t ever ask for a lot, she sure as hell deserved a lot. He really should’ve just sucked it up and went, for her sake. Now she was probably sitting at home, bored and abandoned on her own birthday. Perhaps he could call her back and say he felt better? Somehow made a miraculous recovery? He wasn’t thinking straight and he knew it, but he reached for his phone anyway. 

“Been a while since we’ve talked. How have things been with you?” MJ said sarcastically.

“You still wanna go?”

“...what?”

“It’s your birthday. You can’t be alone on your birthday. If I leave now, we can still make it on time.” Peter insisted with a sniffle.

“Are...are you crying?”

“No, I’m sick.”

MJ’s heart sank, and she had to put her foot down. “Peter, listen to me. It’s truly, really, and completely okay. There’s no part of me that is mad or upset with you. You can’t help being sick. For all we know, your immune system could just hate you or something. So what you need to do is lay down, if you’re not already, and sleep. We can do something when you’re truthfully feeling better, okay?”

The call ended, leaving no room for argument. 

Peter wiped his tears away and listened to his girlfriend.


End file.
